Bound in Destiny: If only I'd Known Better
by Croik
Summary: Though this continuation fic starts pretty generally, it'll later focus more on Zell. Hooray for spikey blondes!


(This fic has been discontinued, I'm sorry to say. I'm only leaving it up because I hate when things I've read disappear, so I figure someone else is the same way.)

Chapter 1

**Prologue

* * *

**

The air was warm that night-too warm to sleep. Zell kicked fretfully at the covers that threatened to suffocate his body in the humidity. Lazily he sat up, scrubbing at heavy eyelids. "Nanna," he complained, "can't sleep."

"Go back to bed, honey," came the mumbled reply.

"Can't sleep, can't sleep."

"Just close your eyes. You will."

Zell pouted. He would not fall back asleep. It was too hot. Hadn't he just made it clear that he couldn't sleep? Nanna was being silly.

So Zell climbed out of bed, wrestling a bit with the covers, and sat down. Usually the wooden floorboards of their small house were chilly at night, so he stretched out, hoping they would cool him off. But it didn't help-he still couldn't sleep. So he went outside. His Nanna had always told him not to go out in bare feet, because he would catch cold. He took off his slippers and tottered out the door and down the wooden steps. But it was hot outside, too-the whole entire world was hot! So he wandered about for a while, hoping to catch cold, however that could be done.

His awkward gait carried him to the center square. There had been a celebration there that evening, and it was messy. Zell didn't know what the party had been for-he, after all, hadn't received any presents. Everyone in the village had danced and sang and ate. And there was something new in the square-a huge weaving, hung on a wooden frame.

Zell approached slowly, watching the large woven blanket warily as if it would move. He could see only a few of the crazy-looking designs, because it was dark. There was a big thing like that looked like a mushroom, surrounded by lightening. It looked kinda scary. But just below it was another picture that looked like a little girl his age. Zell thought she looked pretty, even if she did have blue skin and funny hair. He wondered if she was friendly. He liked making new friends, especially because there weren't many children his age.

Zell reached out, gently touching the carefully constructed web of yarn. It was soft and fuzzy.

"Hey."

Zell turned around. Someone was hiding behind one of the posts that were holding up the blanket. He could see well in the dark, so he didn't know whom it was. "What?"

"Can't touch that." It was a small girl-his age. Her round eyes were bright and sharp. "It's special."

Zell frowned. He looked at the blanket, then the girl. "Are you the girl on the picture?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Can we be friends?"

She paused. "Okay." She came out of hiding then, and tottered over to join him. They sat down together, and smiled. "It's too hot," the girl said.

"Yeah. I can't sleep," Zell replied. "It's hot."

The girl stared at him for a while. Then she held out her hand. There was a flash of light, and then a block of ice appeared on her palm. She set it down, and even though it was hot, the ice didn't melt. Zell smiled. "Is that magic?"

"Yup." She grinned. "Can you sleep now?"

He giggled, which turned into a yawn. "Thanks." He curled up on the ground, and the girl did so also. Both were almost instantly asleep.

When Levin sensed the coming presence, he immediately called for the children to rejoin him in their hut. They gathered quickly as he'd taught them, but he noticed that one of the children, Zell, wasn't among them. "That boy," he muttered, striking out into the now deserted village. "He'll prove the end of us, I swear."

The boy was nowhere to be found. At last Levin was forced to return to the children for fear of being caught outside when the apparition appeared. He had timed his retreat perfectly-as soon as he entered his hut, the lightening began.

For several minutes thunder rolled throughout the village like the wind itself, frightening the younger children. The wooden walls shuddered and quaked with the swelling power. Levin waited anxiously by the door, not daring to view the outside until the brief storm had passed.

But even after the thunder ceased and the earth grew steady once more, he could still sense that familiar spirit; the raw, seemingly boundless energy flooded his delicate perception. He waited in the tense silence for a sign that all was well; when one did not come, it was all he could do to remain calm in front of the children. Something had gone wrong.

Something knocked lightly on the front door, and Levin nearly fainted out of fear. He signaled for everyone to sit far against the back wall. Swallowing hard and rallying his courage, he stood and opened the door.

A pair of mixed ice-and-ocean blue eyes regarded him calmly. They rested within the slender, pale features of a beautiful woman's face; her blue-tinted skin covered a graceful, human-like form, which disguised her true power. Protruding from a scalp covered with shining yellow-green hair stood a pair of delicate wings to match those flowing from her back. The polished silver armor that adorned her perfect body was decorated with violet jewels and emerald trim; the majestic coloring was enhanced by a crimson mantle hanging like a royal tapestry down her back.

She was magnificent-beyond her physical appearance there were no words to describe the sheer impact of her presence. No title or name could equal the respect she deserved, nor depict her splendor. The mortal man before her could barely stand, so awestruck was he.

"One of us will come to you, greater than any whom has ever come to you. And on that day you will feel the heavens shake. Lay not an eye on her, but leave your tithes and reveal not a soul, for in her presence you are but dust."

At last Levin's old bones failed him, and his legs folded beneath him. In all his many years he'd felt this power only on a few occasions; it would rise and fall like the tide and then be gone, leaving only its blessings. More frightening now than the sight of her was that of which she carried: Levin's single missing boy.

Zell sat curled in the arms of the being, perfectly calm. He didn't seem to comprehend the position he was in. With tangled, dirty hair and a mud-smeared face he smiled down at his caretaker. Just when Levin believed nothing more could happen, the being spoke.

"I found this child beside my alter." Her voice was surprisingly human, flowing with elegance.

"F-Forgive us, My Lady," Levin stuttered, bowing before his mistress. He said no more for fear of upsetting her.

"That is unnecessary." She set the child down, who surveyed his caretaker's behavior curiously before returning to the other children. "Your people have always served me well, but now I must ask a favor."

The elder licked his trembling lips. "Y-Your humble s-servants would be honored."

"Come with me a while, Levin. I would speak to you."

"Y-Yes." When he looked up, his mistress had exited the hut. He glanced over his shoulder at the huddled children. "Stay here and quiet, all of you," he instructed. Then he quickly left.

When Levin returned his face was pale, and he could barely walk. The older children tended to him, bringing water and food to restore his strength. He thanked them weakly. "I thought us al dead," he confessed softly, so that the infants wouldn't hear. "But now we are blessed."

The children anxiously demanded an explanation to the visit, but he declined until after the being's presence had vanished with another flourish of lightening. "It is Zell," he told the most trusted of his charges. "At midnight tonight one of the Guardians will come for him, to take him to meet his destiny."

"A sacrifice?" one of the children whispered fearfully.

"No. A savior." Levin's gaze drifted to where the boy in question was happily eating his supper. "He is a destined child. Now, all of you help Nanna with the other children-not a word of this to anyone, even him, until I say so. Is that clear?"

They agreed, then scampered off to care for the younglings. Levin tarried a moment longer, contemplating all that had been said to him. _"A great power sleeps in that child. Worry no more, for he is one of the chosen saviors; a child of destiny."_

The moon was full that night. Levin took a moment to gaze up at that floating ivory sphere which dominated the heavens. The wind whispered softly about him as he stood there, waiting. At long last he turned to his wife, the children's keeper. "Are you ready, Nanna?"

Her skin wrinkled around her smile. "I've been waiting for you, Levin."

He chuckled as they crossed the village square to the small hut that was their temple. "I've been avoiding it," he mused. "But it's almost midnight-there's no choice to be made. I'll have plenty of time to regret this night after he's gone."

They entered the small hut, their moonlight-made shadows reflected on the back wall's intricate weavings and designs. One of the offerings of yarn had been pulled from its frame and laid across the floor. Curled up on the design of the wide-eyed child, Zell slept peacefully.

"It's almost blasphemy, what he's doing," Nanna murmured.

Levin smiled faintly. "As long as his dreams are peaceful, he is honoring them."

"You should have told him."

"I couldn't. Besides, he's too young to understand. He will forget us soon enough." He stepped forward, careful not to step on the weaving as he lifted Zell into his arms. "Nanna, please fix this for me. I will take care of him."

The woman nodded, though she postponed her task long enough to kiss Zell's cheek. "Good luck, little scoundrel," she whispered.

Levin carried the child outside, and there immediately came upon his Lady's messenger. It was an old man draped in long pale robes. Though he was balding, his beard and mustache hung like silver sheets from his face, all the way down to his feet. There was as quiet, humble quality about the elder that comforted Levin; his eyes were intelligent and kind. He had no qualms in delivering the boy to him.

"I am the Sage of the Guardians," the old man declared in a soothing tone; he sounded wise and ancient, like the spirit of a long dead king. "I have come for the child of destiny."

Levin bowed deeply in respect, and then offered the boy he carried. The Sage accepted Zell into his arms with a parent's sensitivity and care. "Your presence brings up honor," the child keeper said.

"You honor us with your devotion and praise," the sage replied in kind. "And for this service your village will be rewarded. Live peacefully, as you have earned." He smiled down at the child as it wriggled against him, fingers curling in his thick cloaks. "Rest well, little one. You will be among your kin soon." He nodded respectfully before Levin, and with a swirl of fabric turned to depart. Levin watched, smiling grimly, until the pair disappeared into the night.

"May you one day return to us," he whispered, lifting his gaze to the gentle moon.

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

Squall Leonheart swept the hair from his eyes for the hundredth time that afternoon. This action was soon followed by the rolling of his sleeves, the wiping of sweat from his forehead, and the adjustment of the Greiver pendant around his neck. He often reasoned that a more sensible wardrobe would lessen his discomfort, but he knew that nothing would change. There was nothing he was quite resistant to as change, no matter the form or degree. Even now, ehe the world had been turned inside out and his own world expanded, he still found comfort in continuity.

"How about now?

Squall checked the machine he and Zell had been working on for hours. One of the dials-a single enemy among dozens, was now responding. "It's reading 100," he reported.

Zell sighed; the sond of his displeasure caused Squall's mood to sink further. "That's probably not enough," the blonde confirmed his fears. "Looks like this is gonna take even longer."

_Great. Even if it isn't one of our top priorities, it's important. We're already lacking manpower. Should I set this aside until the Garden's back on its feet? Can I possibly ask Laguna for more workers? Esthar is just as bad as this…_. Squall shook his head. _Everyone's doing their best. I guess…we'll just have to be patient._

"Squall?"

"We'll just ahe to keep at it," he said, climbing to his feet. He brushed himself off, again tfixing his hair. "Will you be all right?"

Half buried in tools and covered with grease, Zell gave him a thumbs up. "Sure thing, man. Leave it to us." With a grin he returned to tinkering with the machine.

Squall thanked him, wondering how his comrade was able to keep such a high level of energy. It was only three o'clock and he was already exhausted. He took the elevator out of the basement level of Trabia Garden, and from there made his way to the bridge. Fatigue would have to wait-there were things to be done.

After Ultimecia, for a while everything had felt like a dream. Time had reordered itself, Garden and his friends were safe, bur most importantly, he had Rinoa. The thought of her smile warmed him. For once he felt safe and secure, sensations he'd learned to be unaccustomed to. The title of "hero" was insignificant when compared to the elation and joy he felt in the presence of his friends.

Already reality had found its way back into his life. The celebrations had ended, and the world was ready to move on.

Selphie's request to help Trabia Garden could not be ignored-especially with Irvine on her side. But there was a lot he problem of Esthar's condition. Though Laguna was forever the optimist, Squall wondered if he really knew how decimated his country had become. The monsters brought down by Lunatic Pandora were thriving-it had taken days justto getthem out of the capitol. Rather than divide Garden, Squall had arranged for the only option that seemed feasible: bringing Trabia Garden to Esthar. Though Trabia Garden's flotation mechanism no longer functioned, with the help of Balamb and Galbadia Gardens, and several Esthar ships, they'd managed to carry it around the mountains and to the edge of the city. Lagunqa had had a difficult time at first convincing the citizens of Esthar to allow the lowering of their shields, but now the combined forces were working smoothly. It was only a matter of time.

After speaking briefly with the bridge crew, Squall went on to the Garden outskirts. As soon as he got close to the outermost edge he could hear gunshotst, and picked up his pace. Though he trusted Irvine in the duty of watchman, he couldn't help but worry when trouble was at hand.

Gathered in the small camp, five young teens watched in awe as Irvine Kinneas fired another round of ammunition into the distance. When he'd run out of ammo he handed his gun to the nearest boy. "Reload." The boy hurried to comply as another handed Irvine a fresh weapon. Squall watched this procedure repeat itself, relieved that his companion was faring well. Only when the disturbance had ended did Squall approach.

"Sir Leonheart." The boys clambered to their feet and saluted.

_I wish they wouldn't do that._ Squall saluted back, and could almost see them swell with pride. _Everyone still acts like I'm in charge._ "What were you shooting at?"

Irvine glanced over his shoulder, and a grin lit his face. His enthusiasm and seemingly unexhaustable spriit were also mysterious to Squall. "Oh, Squall. Took me a second-'Sir Leonheart' hasn't' sunken in."

_I'm not used to it myself._ He waited for his previous question to be answered.

"There's a bunch of Torama out there," Irvine explained. He had begun to understand his friend's mannerism. "Nothing serious-just making sure they get to know how things work around here." He patted the rifle proudly.

"Do you need more ammunition?"

"Nah-we've got plenty." He indicated several crates resting nearby. "Beside, that's not something you have to worry about-I've got some great help." He nudged one of the boys with his boot, who beamed.

_Of course I have to worry about it_, Squall thought. _I'm practically in charge._

Irvine looked over him critically, making him feel a lot like some kind of specimen. "Squall," he said evenly, "you're gonna have to start trusting us sometime."

"It's not that." _I just can't help it. I want everything to go smoothly. What if something goes wrong? I can't let any of them down._ "I worry too much."

"Damn right." He winked. "I've got it covered. Now why don't you go looking for Rinoa? She was here earlier, looking for you."

"Whatever." _Rinoa…it feels like we hardly have time to see each other._ "If you need anything, I'll be somewhere in the Garden."

"Hey, I said don't worry. Now get outta here band find Rinoa." Irvine shoed him away insistently before returning to his post.

Squall sighed as he left, returning to the Garden's interior once more. _I guess…I do worry too much. Zell, Irvine, Quistis, Selphie-they've done a better job at staying organized and motivated than I have. And Rinoa…_. He found his pace quickening. _I want to be with Rinoa._

"Hey Squall!" Selphie came bounding up from behind him, carrying a clipboard in her hand. "How are you?" began her routine questioning. "You look tired. Are you eating enough, or did Zell beat you to lunch again? I hope you're not being overworked. Oh, by the way, Rinoa was looking for you. Have you seen her?"

Squall slowed his pace so that she could walk alongside him without falling behind. "Not yet. Do you know what she wants?"

"Nope." Her tone indicated tht she did, and that she was up to something. "I sent her to find Irvine-figured you'd end up there sooner or later."

_Well…._ "I was just there."

"Oh." Selphie shrugged. "Anyway, I'm glad I found you first. I want you to take a look at this." She handed over her clipboard. "It's a 'to do' list," she explained proudly. "I've got all our projects listed, in order of importance. What do you think?"

Squall scanned the first page, and inwardly groaned. First on the list in Selphie's elegant hand-writing was "Make sure Squall and Rinoa stay together." "Whatever," he replied, predictably enough.

"Not 'whatever.' I wanna make sure I got everything."

He nodded and checked again, flipping through the different pages. She had everything from fixing Esthar's Airwalk System to writing thank you cards for the volunteers from Fisherman's horizon. Just looking at how much had to be done made his head spin. "It looks complete," he said, anxious to return the list to her.

Selphie accepted it with a grin-did she even understand how much work lay ahead? Even her hair looked more perky than usual. "Thanks, Squall. I've already started giving assignments to the workers. For now your job is to take care of number one." She giggled, as if it were the most clever joke ever. He didn't respond. "I've got stuff to do, so see you later." She waved as she skipped off.

_Don't they understand by now that Rinoa and I are together? I don't need to be shoved anymore._ He rubbed his eyes wearily. _That is, if we can ever find time. This last week's been so busy, it feels like we're still at war._

"Squall?"

Squall jumped, and spun instantly to meet the familiar voice. As he'd hoed, it was Rinoa. She was dressed in a floppy violet sweater and jeans, her hair pulled back out of her face. Thought she obviously had been hard at work, he could have imagined nothing more lovely. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd taken Rinoa into his arms. She was a bit surprised, but she didn't resist. After a moment she giggled. "Looks like you read Selphie's list."

Squall held her more tightly against him, savoring this chance to feel her warmth, as he knew it might not last long. "I've missed you," was his only reply.

Rinoa fell silent, returning his embrace. He could tell that her frustration and fatige were fit to match his own-she was nearly clinging to him, her face hidden in his neck, her fingers wound tightly around his gray shirt. Having her here, like this, stole away his every complaint from the last several days. If he could find only a moment each day to hold her, all their struggles would be worthwhile.

"I'm glad I found you," Rinoa said once they'd been motionless for some time. They ignored the many students casting glances at them as they passed, and didn't move to separate. "I was looking everywhere."

Squall nodded. "So I heard."

"I've finally been given a title." She giggled in his ear, which brought a faint smile to his lips. "I'm the personal welfare attendant to Squall Leonheart."

_Was that Selphie's idea?_ "What exactly does that mean?"

Rinoa pulled back at last-just enough to look him in the face. "It means my job is to take care of _you_. You're not under assignment but you're still taking all the responsibility for yourself. I'm here to make sure you don't overwork yourself." Before he could protest, she continued. "I'll show you what I mean." She stepped back and pulled something out of a hip pouch he hadn't noticed earlier. "It's a radio," she explained. "It only works on one frequency, which connects it to mine." She patted the pouch. "You keep that with you all the time, and I'll keep mine. Whenever you need anything-info, a messenger, a hug-you can just let me know. I'll do whatever I can to help."

Squall stared at her a moment. "If you want to help, why don't you just stay with Zell and Irvine and everyone? I don't need you to-"

She put two fingers to his lips to silence him. "I know you wouldn't like it, but think of it this way: you're the only one of us that can hold everyone together-the entire world looks up to you. As long as you stay at the head, things will happen." He frowned. "I know, I know." In response she kissed him lightly on the cheek. "But that's why I'm here. I'm going to make sure you can stay up there without hurting yourself. You need someone that you can always depend on. You said yourself that you missed me."

Squall smiled, unable to argue with her shining brown eyes. _I don't deserve her,_ he thought to himself. He welcomed her into another warm embrace. _But there's nothing I can do. I need her._ "Thank you, Rinoa."

* * *

The glass was cold against his fingertips, like ice Winter's ferocity was upon them now, it's force undeniable, just like that of the glass. Both held him, binding him to the broken and barren land of this place. It was his prison; it had always been his prison. The ice-glass bound him to the earth with chains.

"Have you told him yet?"

Laguna Loire turned from his office window, if only for a moment before turning back again. His gaze lingered on the distant form of Trabia Garden. "It's not that easy," he said, frowning. Those that knew him best recognized the severity in that gesture.

Standing calmly with his arm crossed on the other side of Esthar's Presidential Office, Kiros lifted a curious eyebrow. "And why not?

"Because it's not." Even at age 44, Laguna often resorted to childish retorts. "What will he say? I'm good sure he's got enough to worry about-now's not a good time. And besides, if I tell him about Raine, he'll ask about…." He trailed off.

"Julia."

"…Yes. He's been in my head-and yours-after all." He sighed, running his hand through his graying hair. His agitation was unnerving to all of them-it wasn't often that the president faltered in his confidence. "Speaking to him…he looks at me as if I'm a fool. I know he disrespects me for losing Ellone as it is."

Also listening to the conversation, Ward grunted. "That wasn't your fault," Kiros translated. "Ellone understands."

"Yes, but _he's_ the one I'm worried about." Laguna moved his hand over the glass, tracing random shapes in the accumulating frost. "It's freezing in here," he remarked absently.

"It's being taken care of." Kiros paused. When he spoke again, it was as if his voice had become as the same texture of the glass. "You have to tell him."

_Always trapped._ "I know." And he would-it was inevitable. His time for careless freedom had ended long ago, and his path was set. The only question now remaining was one of time.

There was a knock on the door, and he responded eagerly. His desperation could have been mistaken for cheerfulness. Kiros cast him an almost parental glance of reproach as the door opened, and in stepped Ellone.

Laguna would be forever grateful for that distraction. "Ellone, it's good to see you." He clasped her elbows, then smothered her in a warm hug. "I'm so busy, I'm neglecting you."

"Oh Uncle Laguna, stop it." She laughed as she fended off his affection. "You saw him not more than three hours ago. Besides, we have something important to discuss."

"If you say Squall…" he began in a lighthearted manner. He stopped as soon as he noticed who else had entered his office: Rinoa Heartily. Of all the people he knew presently, she was one of the more intimidating to him. Though most would have found their disconcertment in her position as Sorceress, Laguna's ill ease rested in a more obvious statement: her face. Her eyes and voice, especially: her eyes for their kind, forthright nature, and her voice for its smooth, melodic tones.

Rinoa smiled at him, in a very familiar way. "Actually, it is, sort of," she said, coming forward. "Why, is something wrong?"

"With Squall? Oh, no." Laguna flashed her his usual careless grin. His gaze sought Kiros for a moment in a silent, hidden plea for silence. "Not at all. Actually, I should be asking _you_."

"It's nothing serious." She sat down as Laguna moved to sit at his desk. Ellone was content to lean against the desk edge. "But it's important. You see, he's being overworked. It's his own fault, being so stubborn, but as his personal welfare attendant, I take my job seriously."

The president chuckled. "I can see that." Despite everything, he couldn't help but admire her for her devotion. "What did you have in mind? I'm afraid I can't spare any more workers."

"I know, but I had an idea." Rinoa was practically aglow. "It's the eighteenth, after all, and the Holidays are coming up." His attention was instantly perked. "I was wondering if it would be possible to have some kind of party."*

Ellone came quickly to her defense, as Kiros appeared ready to object. "I think it would be a great way to boost moral in the workers."

"Not to mention focus our efforts," added Rinoa. The two of their speeches fit so seamlessly he wondered if they had rehearsed. "Give everyone something to look forward to. Ellone and I are perfectly wiling to take care of all the planning and Mr. Krammer and Mr. Martine have both offered help from their Gardens."

Laguna held up his hands, and was forced to resort to shhing both women silent when they continued anyway. "Ladies, I've heard enough."

"But Uncle Laguna-"

"You've got me." He laughed out loud. "Did you expect me to put up a fight? What good is the most advanced city in the world if we can't throw a proper party, eh?"

Ellone's enthusiastic grin reminded him how much he enjoyed living. "Do you mean it? You're serious, right?"

"Don't you know by now? I'm _always_ serious!" He laughed at the pair of dubious looks from his advisors. "I'll make an announcement immediately-everyone is to take the twenty-fourth and the twenty-fifth off-as an order! A few monsters can't take our spirit away."

"Thank you so much, Mr. President," Rinoa said, clasping his hands across the desk. "We'll take care of everything-it'll be a huge success."

He nodded confidently. "I believe you. Now, you'd better get started before I change mymind." He winked, earning him another hug from Ellone. They thanked him again, already beginning to plan as they exited. Laguni smiled after them, filled with appreciation of their youth. "She's a lot like her mother, isn't she?" he murmured to no one in particular once they'd gone.

"She's not yours," Kiros replied in that same immobile, undeniable tone. "She couldn't have ever been yours, and it's better this way."

Laguna pursed his lips in a pouting manner. "You talk too much. Why can't you take Ward's example?" The man being referred to grunted. "Besides, how do you know that's what I was thinking?"

"Because you're easier to read than he is." He gestured to Ward, who crossed his arms, upset with his inability to respond.

"I suppose." Laguna sank back into his chair, his fingers twirling around each other. "I noticed you didn't have any objections to my party plans…?"

Kiros crossed his arms, his eyebrow lifting again. It was that superior attitude that both inspired and infuriated the president. "If I'd been given the chance, I'd have had plenty to say."

They were interrupted again, this time by his secretary; Ellone was his only visitor that was allowed to enter unannounced. "It's Ms. Vatelli," the woman explained. "She says you spoke on the phone earlier."

"Oh, yes. Send her in." Laguna straightened his posture, then hesitated. "I'm sorry about this, but could you two excuse us? It's…a bit personal."

Kiros regarded his long time comrade with close scrutiny, as he'd never heard the name Vatelli and it bothered, when he was dismissed from a room. It wasn't that he didn't trust his president-he was merely concerned. But, he obeyed, as Laguna knew he would, with Ward just behind. On their way out they passed Ms. Vatelli-a woman several years younger than Laguna, dressed in modest but well-kept clothing. Her blonde hair-a color obviously obtained through some artificial means-was styled in curls that rested lightly on her slender shoulders. She wasn't a gorgeous woman, the smoothness of her face masked well the clues to her age. She had always been, and still was, somewhat of a natural beauty, and her make-up accented this face well.

But Laguna's attention was drawn quickly to her manner-her elegant strides as she approached his desk were tainted with a kind of apprehensious stutter, and her lips pressed into a form lin in that made-up face. It looked familiar somehow, and when he recalled the content of their conversation the day before, he understood why.

"I'm Flo Vatelli," she introduced herself, offering a delicate hand to shake. "I called earlier. It's about…."

"Yes, I remember, Ms. Vatelli. Please have a seat." She did so, and an awkward moment of silence followed. At last Laguna chuckled ruefully. "You have my same eyes, Ms. Vatelli. You can speak openly with me; tell me what's on your mind."

* * *

"A Party?" Quistis repeated. She, Zell, Irvine, Selphie, and Rinoa were all seated around a table in the newly repaired Trabia Garden cafeteria. Though it was already late in the evening, they hadn't eaten dinner yet, and were in much need of a break. Quistis paused in her meal long enough to voice her objections. "But Trabia's not even on it's feet yet, and Esthar's a mess. How can we afford to set repairs back long enough to plan, prepare for, and enjoy something like that?"

"We're already ahead of schedule," replied Selphie, checking over her list. "Besides, it's a great opportunity-a Christmas party with everyone! It'll be fantastic!"

Rinoa grinned at her enthusiasm. "Exactly. It's what everyone needs-especially you guys. And it's already been approved by all the higher-ups."

Quistis glanced around at al the hopeful, eager faces, and sighed in defeat. "All right," she groaned. "What do I have to do?"

"Ellone and I are handling everything," Rinoa piped excitedly. "All you guys have to do is spread the word. I want to get as much done before Christmas as possible, so that we can all relax."

Zell spoke up then, having devoured the last of his meal; sadly, due to the shortage of hot dogs, he'd been forced to settle with ham and cheese sandwiches. "Are we exchanging presents?"

"Of course!" Selphie replied instantly. "But since our funds are limited, I thought we could do Secret Santa."

Irvine laughed. "You mean, we all draw names, and then Rinoa trades with everyone until she gets Squall?"

The girl in question blushed. "Well…."

"Something like that. Well?" Though it was a question, Selphie had already begun writing their names down on her napkin. "It'll be fun. Whichever's left goes to Squall. By the way, where is he?" She began to tear apart the slips.

"Still running around," replied Rinoa. Irvine offered his hat for the drawing, and Selphie mixed the names up. "Even after everything I told him." She pouted.

"Cheer up. This'll loosen him up." Irvine passed his hat to her, after drawing his name. He looked at the slip, grinned, and then tucked it away.

They passed the hat around, until it was certain that Rinoa had picked Squall and Rinoa's name was last in the hat. Soon after, Squall arrived. They explained their plans-Rinoa had to silence his objections only once before he gave in-and then insisted on his selecting a name. He did so, and without a remark slipped the paper into his pocket.

"There was something else I wanted to mention," Rinoa said once Squall had been given time to collect what remained of dinner. "It's…well, I just received some of my personal things from Timber, and I had written down at some point that Seifer's birthday is the twenty-second." She paused, as if waiting for a negative response. Though everyone at the table shifted a bit, there were no mutterings or resentful glares. Encouraged, she went on. "And I know everyone's reluctant to bring it up, but it might be a good idea to try and contact him, being Christmas and all."

"That's…." For once even Selphie was speechless. She glanced at Irvine, who shrugged. "I mean, you're one of the last people I'd expect to suggest that, Rinoa."

"I know, but it's still important, isn't it?" She looked to each in turn. Selphie appeared reluctant but hopeful, Irvine merely thoughtful, Quistis concerned and Zell disconcerted. Squall didn't have any expression. He was calmly eating his dinner as if he hadn't even heard, but she could tell that he was thinking. She would have to draw it out of him. "Squall? What do you think?"

Squall swallowed a mouthful of cold turkey sandwich. "I guess, optimistically speaking, it would be nice to have Seifer back," he said in his usual flat tone. "But it's not that simple. We'd have to locate him, and convince him." Another bite. "He might not want to come back."

"Why not?" Zell asked Zell. "The way I see it, _he_ owes _us_."

"He might not see it that way."

Rinoa frowned; leave it to Squall to instigate reality into her plans. Thankfully, she did have one defender.

"I agree with Rinoa," Irvine spoke up. "Seifer may have drifted lunar for a while-no pun intended-but he's one of us. I think it's our responsibility to help him, if we can."

"Assuming he wants to come back," added Squall.

Rinoa sighed in exasperation. Here she was, attempting to make a positive gesture toward a man who had nearly killed her for their sakes, and he was practically refusing her outright. "You know, Squall, if you don't want him back, just say so."

Squall stopped eating and lifted his head. Only his eyes spoke; they were wide, having not expected her abrupt reproval. Likewise, the others had fallen silent and were watching them expectantly. Rinoa instantly regretted having spoken harshly, and quickly added, "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to sound mean. But you have to tell me what you're thinking, or I'll make assumptions."

He regarded her silently, his eyes softening into dull pools. Slowly, he set down his meal and folded his hands on the table. "It's not that I think he'll try to attack us or something," he told them in a steady, logical tone. "He may have changed, maybe not. But we have to consider everything. What will inviting him back serve?" He lowered his gaze as they considered his words. "Can any of us honestly saw that we want him here? The best we can hope for is a Seifer just like he was before Ultimecia. I'm sure Zell can explain it better than I can."

Zell scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Well…it's not like…like I really _hated_ him, but…."

"Yes you did," Quistis retorted. "You've always hated him. Not that we blame you."

No one spoke, the only sound being that of Zell's anxious fidgeting. Rinoa chewed her lip, even though it made her wince. Though she understood their apprehension, she was also still hopeful. She looked to Squall-it would ultimately be his decision, no matter the effect of her pleas on the others. "Squall…."

"I never hated Seifer." Squall spoke evenly, still gazing blindly at the flashy metal surface of their table. "And, somehow, I don't think he hated me, either. Not really." His companions exchanged glances. "We were just always in each other's way, so we ended up fighting. Ever since we were kids. And…I don't want to fight him anymore."

Rinoa watched him, finally coming to understand. Though she could have offered a dozen arguments in Seifer's name, she decided against it. Squall was right-until she could be sure of Seifer's present condition, there was no use in forcing them into a pointless confrontation.

"All right, Squall." She squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. "We'll save it for another time."

The others nodded in agreement, and Selphie soon afterwards switched their focus back to the party before any debates could renew. Rinoa was only half listening, as her gaze never left Squall. _Next time, I'll consider his feelings more carefully._

* * *

Chapter 2:

* * *

Zell pushed the button. He twisted levers, turned knobs, and pushed the button. Then he twisted levers and turned knobs, adjusted dials, pulled switches, and pushed the button again. Then he kicked it.

The machine roared to life. Zell cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Huh. Guess it always comes down to that, huh Squall?"

The machine sputtered and stopped.

Squall's lack of comment was even more annoying than the machine's silence. Zell sighed, disheartened. "Damn. Not that easy after all." He sat back down and reopened the panel he'd been working on earlier. His fingers, already bruised and sore, fumbled at the controls and wires. "Oh well. Back to work."

Squall stared at him for a moment. His long pauses always made Zell wonder exactly what was going on in his thoughts. Though Rinoa always seemed to understand him, none of his other comrades could claim such privilege. He wondered now, even if he gave the appearance of focused task-making.

Something odd happened then: odd, and unexpected. Squall took several steps closer to Zell, crouched, and glanced about. "I have a problem," he said. The statement was even and calm, very much like his usual speech, but the implications of those words was staggering. Zell immediately stopped working and faced his peer.

"You're asking me?"

It might not have been the most graceful response to so rare and intimate a moment, but it was the first thing that came to him.

"…Yes." Squall met his gaze directly, his ice-blue eyes clear but also vaguely troubled. "I…picked Rinoa for the gift exchange."

Perhaps in any other circumstance Zell would have been able to generate a witty response. Presently, he couldn't have thought of one if asked. He stared at Squall, incredulous and silently delighted. Squall was entrusting him with a problem. Trusting him. It was only after a moment had passed that he realized he was grinning-and foolishly, at that. The expression must have made Squall self conscious, as he coughed sharply into his fist.

"Oh-sorry." Zell turned away from the machine, removing his work gloves. He wasn't sure why-it seemed appropriate, somehow. He wanted everything to be just right; he had to respond to this gesture sincerely and whole-heartedly. "So, you don't know what to get her."

"Not really." Seeing that Zell intended to take his dilemma seriously, he forgot the machine slumbering beside them. "I'm…not good at this sort of thing."

The blonde grinned sympathetically. "Yeah, I figured." He scratched the back of his head. "Actually, I'm having the same problem with Irvine. Even though it feels like we're all brothers and sisters, now that I think about it, I really don't know much about him." He paused, wondering if the sibling analogy had been appropriate. Who was to say that Squall felt the same?

But Squall merely nodded vaguely, unconcerned with the comment. Zell relaxed and put his brain to work. After all, he was usually good with problems. Buying Christmas presents was, after all, kind of like a machine. You just needed some…input…blueprints….

Zell frowned; he may have been good with mechanics, but metaphors were too troublesome. So he settled with a different approach. Other than Squall himself, what would Rinoa want more than anything?

And suddenly Zell had figured it out. It was perfect, and really very simple. "I've got just the thing," he announced triumphantly, climbing to his feet. Squall did so as well, blinking in surprise at the swift solution to his problem. "But I'll need your help. Come on." Without waiting for Squall's reply he led the way out of Trabia Garden's basement. Squall followed, mystified.

One week had never carried the burden of so many days. The combined forces of the three Gardens supported by the workers of nearly every country on the globe worked diligently and efficiently, baited with the promises of the coming celebration, and yet constantly the prize constantly eluded them. Their tasks seemed innumerable. They worked beyond the hours of dawn and dusk, repairing city bridges and Garden classrooms, homes and dorms, and everything in between. None, however, could match the labors of their best; the "Gardeners," as they had been affectionately labeled, rarely saw food, sleep, or each other. There was always one more job, one more problem that required immediate attention. And through it all Squall took to the head, organizing and leading, and usually accompanied by half a dozen of Rinoa's specially trained "Squall Monitors."

December twenty-second came and passed, without announcement or notice.

Finally the twenty-forth arrived. It too arrived quietly; with a presidential order that all non-critical projects be suspended until after the holidays, morning was slow in getting to its feet. Only a few brave souls chose to defy their weary limbs, continuing their efforts toward the party that was to take place that evening. Rinoa spent all day consulting with her helpers, stringing decorations and ordering food. They had managed to turn the entirety of Balamb Garden into the site for the party, hosting over five thousand Garden Students, SeeDs, and residents of Esthar. Galbadia Garden and several places in Esthar were in similar states, to handle the rest. When nearly everything was ready, she went looking for Squall.

"Squall?" When her knocking on his dormitory door proved ineffective, she tried the knob. It yielded without complain. Rinoa crept inside, glancing about, noting the unusually slovenly appearance of his room. Squall was always very meticulous about the appearance of his things, especially with something as personal as his dorm. She giggled at the sight of his leather jacket thrown carelessly over the back of a chair "Squall?" She said his name almost as a whisper, not wanting to disturb him. With a deep breath and a lot of courage she peeked into the bedroom.

Squall lay on his back in bed. He apparently hadn't bothered with the sheets, and was also still fully dressed. One arm was draped loosely over his stomach, the other dangling lazily over the bed's edge. He looked rather cute, lying there in a comatose-like sleep. She approached slowly, cautiously, fearing that a misplaced sound would shatter this opportunity. Squall did not stir. Rinoa was able to kneel beside the low bed without a sound, and couldn't stop her lips from smiling. She brushed his cheek with her fingertips. He looked to peaceful, captive to some unknown dream, that she didn't want to wake him; it was so rare that she saw him so content. Another part of her wanted to join him, to let herself be pulled into that vivid realm where he doubtlessly rested.

"Squall." Rinoa nudged him gently, and giggled when he grunted in complaint. "Come on, Squall. The party's starting." She shook his shoulder gently.

Squall groaned, fighting his own consciousness every step of the way as it climbed out of slumber. His limbs aided the battle with their sore muscles; but there was no stopping it. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. All his pains seemed to dim as the image of the brunette formed in his sight. His lips drew involuntarily into a lazy smile. "Rinoa."

"Hey." She smiled back, her satin fingertips moving strands of coarse hair from his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Tired." He admitted the fact far more easily than he'd intended. At last his eyes opened in full, and her face solidified into the proper lines and blends of colors. He was slow to comprehend, however, the addition of green and red fabric to her head. He stared for a moment, then scanned the rest of her. _Oh no._

"Do you feel up to a party?" Rinoa asked, her soft brown eyes glistening. She was dressed in a red shirt and a short-sleeved green jacket, in addition to a green mini-skirt and high-heeled boots. Her elf's hat was adorned with two gold bells.

Squall blinked. He didn't, but what was the use of arguing? He would claim to be exhausted, even having slept nearly all day. She would point out that everyone else had been working as hard and-doubtlessly-she'd been up since dawn preparing. Then he would be silent as she came up with at least a dozen reasons why he just _had_ to come.

_Skip it. I'm too tired._ "All right, I'm coming." He sat up, and his obedience was rewarded with an enthusiastic hug and a kiss on the cheek. He'd hoped for as much.

"Great! Everyone'll be so happy." Rinoa helped him to his feet, and surveyed his attire. _Uh-oh. Here it comes._ As if on cue, she produced a green and red elf hat with gold bells. It looked just his size. She didn't have to say anything-the sheepishly hopeful grin voiced her ridiculous request well enough.

_If it'll make her happy…I can't refuse._ With a sigh that came from his pride, Squall accepted the hat and put it on his head. He felt like a complete and utter fool when he caught a glance of his reflection in the mirror, but Rinoa was delighted and that was all that really mattered. "Come on," she said excitedly. She took him by the hand and led him at a quick pace outside the dorm section.

Squall could only gape in surprise when he saw the Garden. Balloons, Streamers, and lights covered nearly every inch that wasn't already accompanied by packed bodies. The wave-like murmur of their chattering seemed to drown out even the Christmas music being played over the loudspeaker. One group of intoxicated partygoers sang along. He couldn't remember ever seeing a gathering such as this-the laughter and mirth was greater than even that of the parade in Galbadia he'd witnessed, so long ago it seemed. People danced, chatted, and sang as if their cares and responsibilities had been lifted completely. Even Squall found himself affected by it.

The first of their friends they met was Zell. He was dressed in a full Santa Claus costume, complete with beard and round belly, attempting to do back flips. Quistis was nearby, claiming, "I'm here for when he breaks his neck." His antics earned him drunken cheers from the audience that had gathered, which only encouraged him more.

Selphie found them next. Her outfit held even less material than Rinoa's: a Mrs. Claus costume complete with hat, sleeve-less top, Capri jacket, mini-skirt, hat, and black, high-heeled boots which laced halfway up her calves. She was her usual perky self, insisting that everyone try her specialty hors d'oeuvres. And so everyone was herded toward the cafeteria, where the buffet was set up.

Irvine was no surprise. He was still wearing his leather cowboy pants and boots, but an addition had been made: a reindeer tale, sewn into the rear. Keeping with the theme he was wearing a brown vest and no shirt, and antlers that curved in an impressive display over his head. And, of course, his hat.

"Hey, you got him up!" Irvine bid farewell to the pair of young blondes he'd been flirting with and joined his friends. "I know you'd show up sooner or later," he greeted Squall, lifting his glass in a sort of toast. Squall noticed that, oddly, he didn't come too close.

"Great-now everyone's here," Selphie declared excitedly. "Didn't I tell you this would be wonderful? Rinoa, I honestly don't know how you pulled it off, but it's magnificent! I've never seen anything like it-have you, Squall? It's just amazing." She paused, noticing that Irvine was staring at her, unblinking and intense. "W-What?" she stuttered. "What is it?"

Irvine grinned and rolled his eyes upward. Hanging innocently from the tips of his antlers was a bundle of leaves and red berries: mistletoe. And Selphie was just beneath it.

Rinoa and Quistis giggled, Squall sighed, and Zell looked at them blankly. Selphie's face quickly turned bright pink, and her eyes shifted back and forth, as if searching for a way out. Irvine watched her, not speaking-not needing to. He just smiled at her. Finally she gave in. "Oh, all right." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, for which he seemed entirely too pleased, then quickly withdrew a step away from the dangerous plant. "Are we ready? Let's go party!"

The party continued for several hours in a continuous manner-Zell bounding up and down the crowded halls, Quistis challenging everyone to a "friendly" game of cards, and Squall doing his best to mingle effectively with Rinoa's help. Irvine stuck close to Selphie-it was expected of him. They chatted at length near the drink table, laughing guiltily as Irvine conspicuously poured a bottle of vodka into the punch bowl. Other than that small incident, he preyed upon her every word with the flawless, eager attention of a hungry pup. But every so often his mouth would form that little childish grin, and his eyes would turn upward to remind Selphie of the mistletoe's continued presence. She would grin her toes helplessly into the floor, blush, and grant his unvoiced request. By the time dinner rolled around she'd bee coerced into half a dozen little kisses.

The six friends met in the Garden Quad for dinner; that area had been limited especially for Balamb's students and SeeD members. Squall sank heavily into the cushioned chair, his elbows rested on the table. His eyes held a distinctly clouded look. "I'm fine," he insisted clumsily when Quistis expressed her concern. "Just tired. But this place looks great-what a party. I can't get over how much of a party this is. It's amazing."

"I think he's had too much punch," was Rinoa's explanation. Irvine and Zell shared a conspiratorial glance, and kept painfully silent.

Dinner was hotdogs, much to Zell's delight. They ate happily, complimenting Rinoa on her excellent planning work. Squall had much more to say on the matter than was usual for him; he went on and on about the decorations, the people, and even admitted to liking his hat. Rinoa frowned at him with worry. At last Irvine burst out laughing, and confessed his prank. "He's just drunk," he said, obviously suffering from a bit of the same. "He's fine-it's good for him."

At last the time came for the gift exchange. By then Squall had sobered somewhat, and he sat back, looking embarrassed as everyone prepared. Quistis volunteered to go first. "I picked Zell," she announced, handing over a small envelope. "I really wasn't sure what to give you…but I hope you like it."

Zell tore into the envelope eagerly, and removed a small plastic card that bore his SeeD picture and a barcode. He puzzled over it for a moment, and Quistis explained. "It's a cafeteria card," she said. It was one of the first times that her expression was truly hesitant, awaiting his approval. "I arranged it with the lunchroom. With that you're entitled to twenty free hot dogs a week, indefinitely."

"Really!" Zell held the card as if it ere like precious gold, and a grin spread across his face. "Quistis, that's great! Thanks a lot." After a brief victory back flip he settled in his chair, and slipped the card carefully into his wallet. "I love it."

Selphie was next, presenting her gift to Quistis. It consisted of three specially ordered Triple Triad Cards from Dollet: Ultimecia, Griever, and the third copied from a photograph of the six friends. "I had them specially made," she explained as Quistis nearly drooled. "It took me forever to sketch Griever for them, but Squall helped." Squall nodded.

Quistis looked over the card that had all of them and laughed. "You can't play with this card. It's got a rank of A on all four sides."

"That's because we're invincible!" she declared.

Next were Squall and Zell. "We decided to go together," Zell explained, "because we got the same things. I got Irvine, and Squall got Rinoa. Big surprise." Everyone snickered except Squall, who rolled his eyes. "Anyway, here you go." He handed a package to Irvine, and Squall to Rinoa. They opened them together.

"You got us the same thing?" Irvine asked as he tore the paper, chuckling to himself. "I hope I didn't end up with something girlie, like-" He broke off, mouth dropping open when he recognized the material hidden in his parcel. He was silent, eyes wide and mouth agape as he removed the carefully constructed garment with trembling, reverent fingers.

Rinoa finished opening hers first. "It's…it's…" she stammered.

"A SeeD uniform," Squall confirmed. He handed over two envelopes. "We arranged it with Cid-you're both full members, Rank A, like all of us."

"That means you're top bananas," Zell added, with a grin. "You only go on the missions you want to, and you get a top salary. You're both officially SeeDs. Cool, huh?"

"Zell…Squall…." Rinoa pounced on Squall with a fierce hug that nearly felled them both. "I'm so happy-thank you. Thank you both!"

For his part, Irvine couldn't speak. He stared at the uniform, at his certificate and SeeD badge, and could only gape in astonishment. Zell slapped his shoulder-he didn't need to say anything. They both knew that it was all he really wanted: to belong.

Rinoa's gift to Squall was a ring: a simple silver ring, engraved with a pair of cartoonish angel wings. "To replace the ring I stole from you," she explained meekly. "I feel kinda silly-it's not nearly as special as your gift to me-and you don't have to wear it, but-"

Squall smiled. It was one of those rare gestures, one of sincerity and feeling, and appreciation. Without hesitating he slipped the ring onto the ring finger of his right hand.

After several thanks, laughs, and hugs were exchanged, it became apparent that Selphie had not yet received a gift. "Oh, that's my cue," Irvine said, pushing away from the table. "My gift to Selphie. Hold on." He tipped his hat, winked, and left.

"God, I hope it's not embarrassing," said Selphie, covering her face with her hands. "I just know he's going to do something silly."

"He's talking to Matron," Squall observed. Sure enough, Irvine was at Cid and Edea's table, his hat in his hand, grinning as he spoke. Cid grinned back and reached beneath the tablecloth. Out of hiding he pulled a guitar, much to his audience's surprise. Irvine bowed in thanks, slipped the guitar strap over his head, and replaced his hat.

"What do you suppose he's up to?" asked Quistis.

Selphie frowned. "It can't be good."

Irvine then offered his hand to Edea; she accepted, and he led her to the Quad's reconstructed stage. During his exchange with the Headmaster, someone had set out a microphone stand a chair. He took his seat, adjusting himself, as Edea sipped from a glass of water.

"Hello everyone," Irvine spoke into the microphone, which spread his voice throughout the Quad. "Can you all hear me?" The students and SeeDs responded, and several girls giggled. He acknowledged them with a tip of his hat. "I hope you're all having a fabulous Christmas, because I know I am."

He was rewarded with a round of cheers. Selphie rolled her eyes, but she was also grinning in embarrassment.

"You see, I have a very special gift to give, for a very special person. Precisely, Selphie Tilmit, 'cause she looks just so damn cute tonight." Everyone clapped, and Selphie hid her face.

"Actually, it's too all my friends, but to my old, dear friend Selphie especially." He winked in her direction. "Merry Christmas, Sefie."

Irvine began to strum his guitar; the chords had a solemn, nostalgic tone, as if painting a picture of some long since faded memory. Selphie sat a little straighter, and after a moment more recognition hit Squall, Zell, and Quistis as well. They exchanged baffled glances, unsure of whether or not what they were experiencing was real. The notes resounded in them deeply, purely, as if plucked from within them and sounded from their own minds.

They weren't prepared for what happened next. Irvine began to sing. His voice was rich but not too deep, and smooth despite his always rugged appearance. Selphie was paralyzed by the sound of it, her eyes wide as if they, too, were attempting to absorb each note.

_"Where will my flowers go?_

_Down to the river I cast seeds of the memories we often would share,_

_And pray that you would someday remember_

_The love that I gave you_."

Edea began to sing as well. Her voice rang brilliantly in the open space of the Quad, startling the group that sat around the table. They stared, mystified, lips parted and dry.

"_When I was a young girl I didn't know that something seeming so simple could open my eyes,_

_But know I see how your laugher, so precious,_

_Could better my life."_

Rinoa smiled, enjoying the lullaby-like melody, even though she was unfamiliar with it. Edea and Irvine's voices combined beautifully, creating a tone that was rich and virtually stunning. She paused, however, when she glanced at Selphie to see her reaction. The girl had a hand clamped over her mouth, and tears gleamed in her eyelashes. She was surprised to see similar expressions of emotion from Quistis and Zell. She turned to Squall.

Squall's eyes were trapped within the pair of swirling voices. His expression was filled with an almost painful nostalgia that caused Rinoa's heart to ache, unused to such raw feeling exposed in that face. His lips moved silently against each other, forming the words as they sang.

_"You look to the future_

_Your hope is so bright_

_I had that once; it faded away._

_But I feel now that_

_I can gain it all back_

_If I know that you'll be happy some day_

_"Where will my flowers grow?_

_Down to the river I cast seeds of the memories you'll gain on your own_

_And pray that you will someday come to know_

_The love that I gave you…someday"_

The song ended, and Rinoa jumped as the Quad erupted in applause. Irvine stood, accepting their praise with a boy, then coaxed Edea to as well. She smiled shyly in embarrassment. A moment later Selphie bounded onto the stage, mocked a punch to Irvine's gut, then hugged him warmly. She was crying and laughing at once, and he grinned, stroking her hair. They were joined by Zell and Quistis, who offered their thanks and approval.

"It's a lullaby," Squall explained, his voice low and a bit hoarse. "Matron used to sing to us all the time. I'd almost forgotten."

Rinoa watched him carefully. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, his smile in place, a deep appreciation in his eyes. "Yes." His fingers intertwined in hers. "Yes, I'm fine."

* * *

Laguna and Ellone watched the charming scene from the Quad's entrance. "Aren't you going in, Uncle Laguna?"

He smiled evasively, and scratched the back of his neck. "Naw, not now. This is their party. But you go ahead, Ellone. You helped this to happen, too."

Ellone frowned at his refusal, but was sympathetic. "All right. Take care." She kissed his cheek and skipped to join the crowds.

Flo Vatelli, who had also been observing the festivities from afar, replaced her at Laguna's side. Her dull brown eyes moved among the groups of people: the cowboy insisting on another kiss from the brunette; the spiky-haired Santa hurrying to get more food; the blonde playing cards with Ellone; and Squall Leonheart with the Sorceress, speaking to Edea. She chewed her lip nervously, watching their mirth. Her hands curled around the fabric of her dress.

"It's all right," Laguna said gently, noticing her stressful behavior. "You don't have to say anything now."

"Yes, I know. But…he looks so happy…."

Laguna smiled with rueful empathy. "They all do, don't they? That doesn't have to change." He turned away from the party. Tomorrow, we'll both tell them, all right? Christmas is a good time."

"Yes. Christmas is a good time." Flo returned his smile with a bit more confidence, now that they had decided for sure. "Tomorrow."


End file.
